Can the Damned be Saved?
by WhiteMacabre001
Summary: Hi everyone! Here it is. The continuation to my first story, Can the Damned be Loved. This version details what happened after chapter 11 of my last. Ciel is now all grown up with a family coming into the new century. New enimies, and old ones return.
1. Chapter 1

Characters:

Ciel Phantomhive (age 24) Earl of the Phantomhive Estate. Owner of Funtom Toys.

Reader as Lady Phantomhive (age immortal/ looks 15-16) Daughter of the Earl of Sussex. Demon wife of Ciel Phantomhive, Earl of Phantomhive Estate.

Sebastian (age unknown) Demon butler of Phantomhive household. Tutor to Richard.

Meirin, Bard, Finnian (ages 20, 32, 19) Servants and protectors of the Phantomhive Estate.

Children:

Richard (age 10) Eldest son of Lord and Lady Phantomhive. Heir to the Phantomhive Estate. Very mature for his young age. Named for Richard I Lionheart.

Caine (age 6) Second son to Lord and Lady Phantomhive.

Alexander (age 5) Third son to Lord and Lady Phantomhive.

**January 1st 1900 12:00 a.m**.

Golden champagne swirled lightly as the sparkling crystal clicked together in celebration. Voices lifted in joyous praise, welcoming the New Year and the new century. The majestic ballroom blazed with silk skirts and spiced cologne, the smoke from cigars clouding the rafters. Fires roared within the polished marble fireplaces, flickering here and there. The flames seemed just as eager to dance as the guests. Ladies of class and their gentlemen waltzed and laughed to the chiming of the clocks. Butlers sifted through the crowd, their silver trays laden with glasses. The music of the violins and cellos wafted past the large mahogany doors and up to the grand staircase. The large grandfather clock chimed strong and profound notes as it counted the hours. It was in front of that looming ornament that the master of the estate took the delicate hand of his Lady and wife.

Ciel Phantomhive smiled down at his wife with all of the love that a man could present. And with his standing, that proved to be quite profound. The Earl's smoky blue eye glittered in the gas lit light of the chandeliers, the golden-yellow reflections played off of his slate grey locks. The smile upon his creamy lips was just as soft and smooth as the champagne you sipped from your glass, but tasted oh so much sweeter. Behind you, the clock counted the ninth hour. Ciel bent lower, his bow shaped mouth shadowing yours. You went to meet him, his superior height causing you to rock forward and lean against his chest. Another chime and it was the eleventh hour. Ciel angled his head gently to the side, his peachy lips parting. You closed your eyes, offering your mouth to your husband. As the clock sounded the twelfth hour, the celebratory raucous fell on deaf ears as you and your husband met in a midnight kiss.

His hands held you so protectively and securely that you pressed closer to him. You never grew tired of his kisses. They always had a way of making you surrender to him. Ciel's body had matured since those years ago. He was now as lean as Sebastian, and almost as tall. And his prowess and stamina were things to be admired. He could run his corporation for days on end with little rest, then retire to your chambers and still be able to seduce you. It was this strength, you believed, that allowed him to father three children in such a short time. Not that you were complaining. Ciel even discussed with you that he desired more children from you.

Two nights since past, you lay in each other's arms, his long fingers caressing the curvatures of your back. The children had been seen to bed by Sebastian, each sleeping peacefully in their nursery. Save Richard, who slumbered in his own chambers. At the ripe age of ten, Richard was Ciel's heir and next to inherit the Funtom Company. He resembled his father the closest, with likewise hair and eyes. Richard was a brilliant boy, quite like his father. He aspired to become a great Lord and gentleman like Ciel, and often spent his study hours daydreaming of that accomplishment. Much to the aggravation of Sebastian, who had been placed as the child's tutor and mentor. The demonic butler had to chuckle though, for he never dared to guess that his young master held such…passions to bring forth children from his loins. Nonetheless, Richard was an astute pupil. And Sebastian was right proud of the little Lord.

Ciel ghosted his lips over your shoulder and ear, his nose brushing your soft hair. You smiled dreamily and sighed closer to him. Your husband gently kissed your head and whispered into your ear.

"I want you to bare me more children," Ciel's voice hushed against your hair.

Chuckling, you turned your face to nuzzle his chin. "Oh? Is three not enough? Could it be that the great Ciel Phantomhive wishes to populate the earth with his blood?"

You raised a hand and traced a fingertip down his perfect nose. Ciel's blue eye darkened with growing lust when he felt that same finger drag over the strong column of his throat. Your touch sent currents of electricity to course down his belly and into his hips.

The earl growled playfully and pinned you onto your back, his lithe body erotically settling along yours.

"I will fill the world with my descendants if that is my destiny. No country will be blind or deaf to the Phantomhive namesake. Nor shall England be ignorant to my superiority in all matters…be they political or the pleasures of the flesh."

You felt the familiar hot pressure pressing against your hip, and you grinned devilishly. "Then we've little time to waste, my husband."

Those memories infiltrated your mind as you stood there wrapped in Ciel's embrace. A shudder traced its way down your spine, a shudder that the young earl absorbed through his lips. The Earl of the Phantomhive Estate smirked against your lips and crushed you to him in a cage of muscle and power. What a fine way to welcome the dawn of the new century.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

February 12th, 1900

Piles of papers and reports littered the great cherry wood desk, successfully concealing the Phantomhive Earl behind its pages. For hours Ciel poured over accounts, payrolls, credits, taxes, mortgages, and stocking fees. His company had tripled in the last ten years, turning the young Lord into the second wealthiest noble in England, next to the elderly Queen herself. Over the years he had made additions to his mansion, a larger ball room and kitchen, an art gallery and larger library. He added stables and a marble water fountain to his rose filled courtyards. After Richard's birth, he built a lavish nursery, which proved to be essential with the coming of Caine and Alexander. He built onto his office space and even added a bedroom. He tried to never use its comforts in favor of joining his wife, but there were times when pressing issues called for him to retire amongst his work.

It was nearing noon and the heat of the sun's ray warmed the earl's hunched back, soothing the aching muscles. Ciel's eye strained to read one more report about the percentage rates of his company's income when a surreptitious knock sounded against the door.

"Young Master, I've brought you your tea," Sebastian's smooth voice explained.

Ciel sighed in completion, and brushed slate locks from his forehead.

"Enter Sebastian."

The black haired butler rolled a cart adorned with a porcelain tea set imported from China, its petite cups clinking lightly.

"I've brought you Classic Earl Grey, this day my Lord. Nothing sooths the nerves than a refreshing taste." Sebastian elegantly poured the steaming brown tea into a tiny cup, not a drop spilled.

He offered it to his master, who took it with a fatigued hand.

"Thank you Sebastian."

The demonic butler paused, his amber eyes glinting.

"What's this? You've never thanked me before my Lord. I do believe you have been pushing yourself too far these days."

The earl snorted and sipped, relishing as the spicy bergamont slid down his throat. "It was nothing. A mere slip of the tongue. Don't fancy yourself thinking that I would flatter you."

This brought a chuckle from the stoic butler. "Of course not."

The earl leaned back against the worn leather chair, the cup pleasing to his cramped fingers. He habitually tapped the black eye-patch over his right eye, contemplating on its removal. Sebastian busied himself with clearing his masters desk of completed papers and written letters of state, giving the earl more room to effectively work.

"Richard is excelling at mathematics and Latin, my Lord. Quite unlike you at his age," Sebastian grinned.

Ciel frowned and retorted. "I had a business to run. I had little time for childish lessons. Plus, I was already highly adept at arithmetic and proper conduct."

"And he is quite the dancer. It will not be long before his Beautillion Ball. He is surly to be the envy of the nobility. Why as I recollect, he is almost as graceful a dancer as the King of Austria himself when I had the pleasure of attending his celebrations."

Ciel rolled his eye, but nonetheless smiled lightly. Richard was his heir and eldest. The boy already showed a deep interest in his father's corporation and was being groomed by Sebastian to take over upon Ciel's death or retirement.

"I have no doubt that his advancements are due to his incredible breeding," Sebastian added, his voice alluding to the boy's demonic heritage.

Ciel sipped his cooling tea, shrugging. "No doubt that is one of the reasons."

A clatter of objects resonated down the hallway and into Ciel's study, jarring his tea to spill. The earl watched as the brown liquid stained his finely tailored lapels. The jacket and been especially made for him by the Queen own personal seamstress, the fact that it was now ruined brought much disdain to Ciel's brow.

"What is the meaning of this distraction!" Ciel growled as the Phantomhive maid stumbled in.

"S…Sorry Young Master! A letter's arrived, from Her Majesty." Meirin gasped and handed the crisp letter to Sebastian.

"Thank you for your dedication Meirin, you may leave now. I do believe that it is time for the young Lords Caine and Alexander's reading lessons correct? Please see to it that they are prepared for my arrival. "

The maid flushed under Sebastian's cool gaze and flitted away. Ciel's younger sons, Caine and Alexander were budding intellectuals, yet they were weak in their comprehension skills. A blemish upon their education that Sebastian was resolved to wipe away.

Ciel snatched the letter from his butler's hand and sliced it open. The Earl of Phantomhive removed the letter and broke its wax seal. It read:

From Her Esteemed Majesty, Queen of Great Britain, Ireland, and Empress of India, Queen Victoria

To my dear Earl of Phantomhive,

I hope that you and your family are well and prosperous in this new century as we all welcome the changes to come. It is my pleasure to invite you and your lovely wife, Lady Phantomhive, to a mask ball at Buckingham Palace that will take place on the fourteenth of February. Forgive the short notice, as I am certain you are burdened with your work. It would delight me greatly if you were to bring young Richard as well. I do long to see how he progresses. He reminds me so much of you as a child. You must be quite proud. I await your reply most earnestly.

Her Royal Highness,

Victoria

P.S. Do not be alarmed, for there will be an old acquaintance gracing our presence. I trust that you will mind yourself and receive him with the utmost grace.

Ciel's hands tensed. The Queen had invited him to a ball on Valentine's Day. That was not the issue. The fact that an old acquaintance was to be there sent the earl's mind in a whirlwind of torrents. Who did she mean? Lord and Lady Middleford? They have yet to forgive him for ending his engagement with Elizabeth. Or it could be Viscount Druitt, Alistair Chamber. Ciel still shuddered from his past dealings with the Viscount. Lord Edward of Lancaster? Ciel did not know. And not knowing drove him mad.

"Sebastian, seek out whom I shall receive at the Queens ball on February 14th."

"Then, you are going to the mask?"

"The lapdog of the Queen must fulfill his duties…whatever they might be."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

February 14th, 1900

Valentine's Day/ Mask Ball

10:15 a.m. Breakfast on the Terrace

"I do hope that you find the dress to your liking, my dear." Ciel mused whilst watching you open your Valentine's gift.

The dress was indeed beautiful. The blood red silk captured the early light perfectly, turning the fabric into shades of pinks and burgundy. The low and revealing neckline was unmistakably the craftsmanship of Lucile, Lady Duff Gordon. Her dresses were the most coveted in England. She was also popular for starting this new trend of less restrictive corsets. A fashion statement however, that Ciel did not approve of. He found the corset to be alluring and a symbol of femininity. Nothing sparked more heat in him then watching you become flushed and faint with desire for him.

"Oh Ciel! It's wondrous!" You exclaimed happily. Rising from your chair, you leaned across the wrought iron table and kissed him.

"I'm glad that it pleases you milady. You will look ravishing tonight."

You stopped and looked at the earl. "Tonight?"

Your tone made the young earl wince. He had forgotten to mention about the Queen's ball.

"We have been invited to attend the masked ball of Her Majesty tonight at Buckingham Palace. I received her letter two days ago." Ciel said and glanced over the morning paper.

You blinked several times at Ciel's bluntness. How could he have forgotten such important details? You felt the growing aggravation rise. You hoped that he would not notice your fangs elongating, though your eyes had most likely shifted to resemble those of a feline.

"You're telling me this now? What if I had made plans for us tonight? Buckingham Palace is nearly half a day's ride from here. When are we to leave?"

Ciel looked away from the new and saw your transformation. "Firstly milady, stop your exaggerations, must you always make distances seem longer than they really are? Did you have plans?"

This struck you. You loathed when Ciel became like this, stern almost scolding, as if you were a mere child. Rarely did he get this way, but you remembered those times when he was pushed into it.

"That is beyond the point. Is it not too short of notice to tell me that we are going to Buckingham Palace hours before we have to depart? What about the children? Who will watch them as I am sure Sebastian is joining us."

Ciel set down the paper and sighed, lacing his fingers together. "Richard will be coming as well."

You were surprised. "Richard? Why? He is not of age to attend a mask."

"The Queen asked for him specifically. I will not refuse her wishes."

You tensed. Ciel never begrudged the Queen anything. Not even displaying his own son like a prized Thoroughbred. This angered you. Richard was the only child the Queen ever asked for. Alexander and Caine were hardly mentioned. You resented Her Majesty for that.

"Richard will remain home." You said icily while placing the dress back into its box.

Ciel furrowed his brow. "Do not start this again (y/n). I've neither the time, energy, nor the patience to argue. Richard is coming with us and that is final."

Ciel's cold words hurt you. As a woman of this era, society decreed that a woman must obey her husband, no matter what. Once a woman married, she virtually became her husband's property, just as a chair or pocket watch. Ciel never treated you as a lesser being, and for that you loved him. Yet when it came to matters of his sons, his word was law. A father's command superseded those of the mother, regardless of her…origins. But that did not change the fact that your other boys were cast aside.

"And what of Caine and Alexander? Are they invited as well?" Your voice was hard as steel.

The breakfast had long gone cold, and if eating was not to be, then Ciel made ready to prepare for the journey at hand. Saying nothing, he rose from his seat and walked around to stand behind you. You did not turn to acknowledge him, only kept your feline eyes on the red fabric of your dress.

"(y/n) Do not be discouraged. I love our Caine and Alexander, nothing can change that," Ciel extended his hand to caress your neck. "But these political orders to do not concern you."

You spun sharply in your seat, the iron stretching against the stone terrace. Angrily you glared up at the Earl of Phantomhive and was greeted by the image of nobility. Ciel stood straight backed, his shoulders broad and strong. His lone sapphire eye met your dagger-like sight and held it fast. The slate grey locks fell lazily into his face, cleanly swept over his eye patch. Ciel's angular jaw was tight, the muscles clenched. This was the man. It was not the boy who loved you and your children. This was the business savvy, cut-throat and undisputed Ciel Phantomhive. His cohorts and competitors feared him and his unorthodox ways. This was the true man you had married. Ciel Phantomhive. Your husband…and your Lord.

"I am Richard's mother," you hissed to this statuesque man. "I am your wife, Ciel."

"And as my wife, you will do as I say. I will inform Sebastian to have Richard dressed and ready. In the meantime, it would suit you to do the same. I will send for Meirin."

With that, he turned and left.

12:02 p.m.

The carriage ride was long and bone rattling. Silence. That was the only sound within the thin walls of the cabin. Sebastian directed the horses above you, clicking his tongue every so often. The whole ride, Ciel never let go of your hand. Upon departure, he had settled next to you and took your gloved hand in his. It was a tactic he administered whenever you two had quarreled. It assured him that you were not going to leave him, not again. The loss of his parents in the fire, then the initial impression that he had lost you after the duel at the Trancy mansion instilled a fear in him that rose to choke the life from his heart. Of course, his heart could not be lost, for it belonged to you. Just as Sebastian lay claim to his soul, you alone held his heart.

Richard was adorned in his finest clothes. A fine satin coat of the darkest midnight blue with matching trousers. His vest was a black velvet, decorated with blue threads. He resembled Ciel so much that it nearly took your breath away.

"Mother, are you well?"

You blinked and smiled warmly at the boy. "Yes dear. I'm fine."

Richard smiled and sat back in the seat, crossing his legs like his father, the boy was Ciel's doppelgänger.

"How do I look mother? Am I handsome?"

Your smile widened and you playfully hid your face behind your silk fan. "Why yes, dashing and debonair."

Teasingly, you fanned yourself like a blushing maiden. Richard laughed and blushed at the compliments. Ciel watched the two of you quietly. The sounds of your laughter brought light into his heart and the morning's strife faded away like a dream. The earl wrapped an arm around your bare shoulders and held his other free arm protectively before you.

"I say good sir, this fair maiden is already mine. I encourage you to take you flattery else ware." Ciel assumed a haughty tone to his voice, causing his son to fall into a heap of childish giggles.

You too laughed and shifted your seat to be beside your son. Richard rested his head on your shoulder, giving his father a self-assured look of victory. Ciel feigned surprise and clutched his chest in mock anguish.

"I've lost! Have pity on me my Lord Richard."

Richard smirked and careened his neck to lengthen. The diminutive stare he gave his father internally shocked Ciel. How cold and distant his son's blue eyes became, as if they had seen years of bloodshed and betrayal. He knew that discarding expression well. It was a look he himself gave often. Ciel's mind raced to when his was 12 and pointing a pistol at an innocent man's head. He had been searching for information on the Queen's behalf, and this peasant was clearly holding back. Without hesitation, Ciel remembered the feel of the kickback as the gun went off.

"You are spared…this time."

The boy's stony expression disappeared as quickly as it came, and he smiled at his father.

"Ciel? What's wrong you look concerned." You questioned worriedly.

"…It's nothing."

5:13 p.m.

The carriage final pulled up to the grand stair of Buckingham Palace. Sebastian jumped down from his driving seat, and opened the door. Already, carriages lined the drive, Lord and Ladies all richly dressed entered into the palace. Each held a Venetian mask of various colors, styles, cuts, and makes. Some had plumes of feathers, others had jewels encrusted into the mold. Ciel exited the carriage, then turned to offer his hand to you. Gracefully you stepped out, holding onto Richard's little hand. Sebastian closed the door and reached to lock it. Ciel tied his mask, a sleek black representation of the jackal god Anubis. The eyes and rim of the mask was sewn with golden thread.

You in turn did the same. You mask resembled a butterfly's wings, splaying alongside of your beautiful face. The wings were ruby red with gold and black threads acting as the dark veining. Women stared at you as they passed. Each one had hefty furs wrapped about them, shielding them from the bitter February winds. Yet you stood unfazed in your revealing red gown, shoulders and neck bare. As a demon, you had become impervious to the temperatures.

"Father, may we go in now?"

"Not just yet. We have an audience with the Queen first." Ciel offered his arm to you, which you elegantly took.

Sebastian followed Richard, watching the boy. When he was born, Sebastian had to fight the temptation to steal the child's soul right then and there in your arms. He looked so much like his young master that Sebastian's mouth watered.

Inside, the palace was impressive. High ceilings with ornate carvings, gilded decorations, marble floors polished to a high shine, and so much more. The decadence was overwhelming. Tapestries that dated back to the crusades and farther lined the walls. In one, a detailed motif of the Battle of Jaffa. Richard I waging holy war with the Muslim Sultan Saladin. Richard stopped and stared at the tapestry, fascinated by the skill of the work.

"Sebastian, is this?"

"Yes young master. This is the king whom you share your name. Wear it proudly."

The boy puffed his chest and walked away from the tapestry regally. He was named for one of the most famous king's in English history. He had long known of that, but seeing Richard I was an enlightening experience for the boy. Richard I was a strong, brilliant king and leader. A true legend.

The corridor echoed with the clatters of heels and swooshing of skirts as the four made their way to the Queen's audience chamber. Ciel strode with back erect and his eye set ahead. You met his stride. Holding your neck long and up, you kept your hands clasped in front of you.

Armed guards protected the chambers doors, demanding names and titles of who wished to enter.

"I am Ciel Phantomhive. Earl and Lord of the Phantomhive Estate. This is my wife and son. And he is my son's personal tutor. I wish to speak with Her Highness, Queen Victoria."

The guards nodded their heads and rested their stance. The four of you walked into the chamber, greeted by Victoria herself.

"Ah! Earl Phantomhive, such a pleasure to see you. And Lady Phantomhive, you still are as lovely as ever." The elderly ruler said. Her blue gaze fell onto Richard, who stood behind your skirt.

"Come here child. Let me see you."

Richard looked to you and Ciel for permission, which was granted. Then assuredly as any king, Richard stepped forward towards the throne. Victoria's eyes widened.

"Such posture in a boy so young. You hold yourself as if you were prince!" She exclaimed smiling grandly.

Richard felt the heat stain his pale cheeks. He stood straighter, taller. The voice that came from his throat was not of a boy of ten. It pleased you to hear such a voice from your eldest. It was strong, and unwavering. His tone was powerful, beautiful, and without fear.

"You honor me with your compliments, Your Highness. It is also my privilege to thank you for your gracious invite. I may be a boy of ten, not yet old enough to attend such a function, but I assure Your Majesty that I am well learned in these matters. There will be no childish games this evening. I will command myself to be a gentleman and subject to your crown."

Richard swept an arm out to the side and bowed gracefully. The Queen was speechless.

"Outstanding! What a brilliant child. And how handsome he has grown. I say Lord Phantomhive, you have the little treasure. He resembles you so much that I swear, if you were not standing here We would insist that he was you."

Victoria waved her hand, and a servant emerged from the side, holding a box.

"A gift. For the young Richard. May you find it more useful than I."

The servant opened the lid. Laying upon a bed of green velvet was a dagger, its sheath encrusted with diamonds, rubies, sapphires, and lapis. The hilt was forged of gold with mother-of-pearl inlay. The whole weapon was no more than ten inches, from hilt to tip. Richard took it and marveled at its weight. He removed the blade from the bejeweled sheath, it's fin slightly curved. It had been newly sharpened and polished.

"It belonged to the Sultan Saladin. When Richard I made the treaty securing the sea port cities of the Holy Land for the Christians, Saladin gave this dagger to him as a departure gift."

Ciel inhaled, slightly apprehensive by the dangerous gift.

"A most gracious gift Your Highness." Ciel smiled and held out his arm for his son.

Richard bowed to the Queen and walked back to his parents. There was a slight lift in his step as he held the dagger.

Victoria watched the boy, feeling a sense of love for the child. Before the family departed for the festivities, Victoria spoke.

"Do mind what I wrote to you Ciel, he has become…unstable over the past years. I trust you know now of whom I speak."

As the doors to the chamber closed, a sneaking chill filled Ciel's heart. He knew who was in question, and he resolved to keep his family safe no matter the cost.


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

7:05 p.m.

The mask was a gala event. Every noble in England was there in all of their finery. Masks of animals and fantastical creatures swirled around in a dizzying kaleidoscope of color. The ballroom was so large, you were sure the British Navy could have easily fit into it with room to spare. The music was brilliantly played and Ciel danced with you throughout the evening, kindly refusing requests from other ladies of the court.

Between dances, you were approached by Lady Midford, Lady Elizabeth's mother. The caustic older woman still looked at you as if you were in insect.

After you had come back from your assumed death, Ciel promptly ended his engagement with Elizabeth. Lady Midford was furious at the proclamation and referred to Ciel as a sniveling child. Elizabeth cried, but nevertheless embraced you. She knew you brought Ciel the happiness she could not, and for that she welcomed you as a sister. Her mother had yet to forgive Ciel, or you for stealing him away from her daughter.

It had also been mentioned that upon the birth of Richard, Lady Midford in a fit, paraded to the royal court and issued for your banishment. A request that put her immediately out of the Queens favor. The Queen was quoted to have said, "Lady Midford…We are not amused."

A refusal that brought shame to her ladyship.

You saw the crotchety old woman and went up to her. Smiling you glided past her and went to speak with the Capitan of the Royal Guard. The icy glare at your back must have been one for the books. The Capitan was a sweet man, with five boys of his own. You had come to know him after Ciel threw a dinner party a few months ago. The Capitan was a radical thinker and you enjoyed your conversations immensely.

Ciel meanwhile, discussed political matters with the 3rd Duke of Fife, James Carnegie.

"Quite the woman you have there, Ciel. I must say I am jealous of your life." James laughed a great belly-shaking laugh.

Ciel nodded in thanks. "What about you my Lord? Are you not fortunate?"

"Ah! Indeed I am young earl. But you see, the mistress sees me as a boar who snores like a Basilisk. We have not lain together in God knows how long!" Another rumbling laugh.

Ciel chuckled. The Duke could be crass when he wanted. "How about you my lad? You and your wife…"

Ciel sipped his wine, a hint of red appearing on his cheeks.

"Ha! You scoundrel! I am not surprised however. If she were mine, you can be sure as the sun rises I would have her every night."

With that remark, Ciel kindly excused himself and went to seek you out. He needed to talk with someone in their right mind, not so swayed by drink. Winding his way past masked guests, he stopped short and listened. An unmistakable voice gloated above others. It was arrogant and shrill. It was a voice without restriction. Ciel knew that bloodcurdling voice and he snapped his head in the direction of whence it came.

"No," he whispered.

Pale blue eyes peered from beyond a gilded plague mask. The man's coat reached his calves in an array of embroidered gold and red threads. His boots were above his knees, each side of the polished leather studded with emeralds easily the size of a chicken's egg. Platinum blond locks licked the high-collared neck. The man's stature was arrogant and flamboyant. A cold sweat slithered down his spine and Ciel backed away and slunk through the crowd, hoping to find you before he did.

Sebastian sneakily watched his young master, for he was hidden in the shadows. Humans were such peculiar creatures; they don faces to hide their own. The demon's eyes glowed red with hunger, hearing the sudden torment of his master's soul. The earl was so desperately searching for his wife, and if he should find her, oh how utterly boring this night would be! Sebastian smiled a sly, evil leer and conjured up the perfect events to make this party worthwhile.


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5

The crisp night air coasted your shoulders and neck, its coldness never so much as affecting your demonic flesh. The red dress had caught the eyes of many ladies, who inquired if the maker was Lady Duff Gordon. You enjoyed telling them that it was she who fashioned the garment, and that it was your loving husband's Valentine gift to you. The ladies all sighed romantically; Their fans fluttering away.

How lucky you were, or, how sweet it must be to be the wife of such a man, they said to you. You took their flattery with grace, agreeing and smiling. You would glance at your husband and love the way his costume fit him. The navy blue coat, the elegant boots, all of it looked fabulous on him.

When the orchestra began, you watched as couples trotted over to the center of the dance floor effectively blocking your view of Ciel. Taking this opportunity, you slowly backed away from the crowd and snuck out onto the ballroom's balcony. Beyond the French doors, the celebration burst with life. The music escalated to a rich, jolly dance. But you felt no desire to join in.

You had seen their sluggish movements their heavy limbs reaching for one another. The humans moved too slowly for your taste and you wondered if Sebastian felt this way as well. The black haired butler always commented on how the humans were inferior, comments you brushed off for the sake of your husband. Sebastian remarked on how different the two races were, and of how curious your relationship was with his master. One difference he spoke of was the indifference to temperatures.

Your pale shoulders remained motionless in the cold, neither shivering nor getting goose bumps. Closing your eyes, you let your heightened senses of hearing take control. Conversations, laughter, music, they all filed in. You heard Richard talking to Sebastian and you felt more at ease. Despite what he said, you did love the fellow demonic butler. And the children idolized him almost as much as their father. Sebastian was charming, handsome, and patient. He was handy in all things. He even fashioned your mask. A generous gift, but one that you wished to take off.

Reaching up to remove your butterfly mask, you felt the gentle tugs of another's fingers on the lacing. The careful, meticulous movements relaxed you and you leaned back into a firm chest. You assumed that the time must have been near midnight, for that was when the guests removed their disguises. Letting the large hands untie the ribbon you breathed in as the cool night air blew across your exposed face. The mask was set on the railing beside you, seemingly lifeless now that its eyeholes were black and void. Those hands now rested on the slopes of your shoulders, trailing up your neck and getting lost in your hair. You felt hot breath on your ear and you reached up to touch soft tufts of hair.

"Shall we take our leave soon Ciel?" You said.

"I regret to say, I am not Earl Phantomhive, milady. He is most likely preoccupied with his wife."

Snapping your eyes to the side, you tensed and jolted away from the foreign body. Spinning around, you felt your eyes change into slits. Rage, fear, anguish, and disgust stormed into you as you saw who stood before you. The blond hair, the crystal blue eyes. You knew his face well. Suddenly, your corset suffocated you, the red dress was a lead weight.

The man stared at you. Stock still he was, with an expression of horror and disbelief.

"H…How is it possible? You died."

You felt the tears rise and a dull ache throbbed in your abdomen. It had been ten years since last you saw this man, and the old agony lingered.

"Yes, Alois, I did die that night. But I was reborn."


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

"Witch! Sorceress! She-Devil!" Alois Trancy spat.

The blond count had lost his expression of shock and was now advancing towards you, a murderous glint ablaze in his eyes.

You did not back away from him though, for you knew how this must seem to the Trancy count. Ten years prior, you were forcibly engaged to marry this man despite being in love with the young Ciel Phantomhive. Alois brought you to his estate, and humiliated you. Nights brought with them terrifying dreams and sensations. Often you sobbed into your pillow and wretched into your wash basin. The blond count would only smile and watch as you suffered. He spoke lewdly about your marriage bed once the night arrived, and he touched you inappropriately in front of his servants. His own demonic butler, Claude, was unlike Sebastian in every way. Claude was cold and ruthless, whereas Sebastian was cold but tactful. Then the night came when you escaped the Trancy estate and returned to the Phantomhive household. There, Sebastian prepared an elegant evening for you and his young master.

Yet the night was cut short, for Claude had tracked you and stole you back for his sadistic master. Sebastian was quick to follow and soon was battling his fellow demon for your safety. Seeing Ciel's butler felled by Claude, you rushed forward and placed yourself between the two.

"I saw you that night. Claude skewered you like a pig. Right through your gullet. And there was blood everywhere…so much blood…it was so red…" Alois placed his claw-like hands on either side of his face. "All I saw was red. The red of blood, the red of hate, the red of anger, the red of my loss."

Your chest rose sharply with your intake of breath and throbbed with phantom pain. Claude had indeed run you through with a strange green sword, but you never felt so much as a sting. You remembered feeling numb and weightless. You did not even feel Sebastian's hands as they carried you away into the woods.

"What you saw, and what transpired later are beyond you Alois. I am alive."

"But you are not human!" The now frantic count shot an accusatory finger at you. You noticed that the long digit shook with panic.

He took another step, then another until he was towering over you. His height impressed you, for he easily stood five inches taller than Ciel. Those icy blue eyes trembled with fear.

"No, you are not human. You never were human. I should have known that. You were too beautiful, too perfect. But now," Alois extended his once shaking hands to outline your neck. "Now you are a monster!"

The manic count closed the gap between your neck and his hot palms, and proceeded to choke you. You could have killed him, easily slaughtered him. But your thoughts went to your sons, Ciel, and Sebastian. You thought of Alois and of how much worse he had become. And your heart hardened.

"You…cannot…kill me…Alois. Not again." You whispered in a chillingly cold voice.

The blond count panted heavily and loosened his iron grip to your throat. Yet it was for not, as Alois wrenched back his right hand and swung. The sharp pain ran through your cheek and neck, causing your vision to shake. Stumbling backwards, you gripped the frigid railing.

"Wench! You'll not state what I can and cannot do! I am a noble and you are nothing but a walking corpse!"

The count's words cut into you. The pain in your chest intensified.

"You are wrong, Alois. I am alive. At last you have failed again. You failed in murdering Ciel, and you failed in killing me." You chuckled icily.

The count did not falter in his step as he tramped over to you. His tall form pinned you to the railing, those cold aquamarines acted as iron chains. The pain intensified in your stomach, the corset becoming more restrictive as you breathed. Alois' chest rose in heavy breaths, the nostrils of his straight nose flaring. Despite your position, you remained composed and defiant in his eyes. His long fingers, snake-like in their movements, slithered up your arms and over your bared chest. His fingertips traced your collar bones, your sternum.

"A living doll…That's what you are," He let his mouth hang open just enough for you to see his cleanly white teeth. "Practically a voodoo doll!"

Alois cackled and covered his eyes. "This is delicious! How perfect! Ah, my dear you have not the slightest inkling of what you mean to me!"

Using your demonic speed, you slammed the surprised count against the wall, his head giving a satisfying crack.

"What you may think you can accomplish with me, I assure you Count Trancy, it will be for naught."

Red engulfed your irises, smoldering around slivers of pupil.

Alois twisted his lips into a crooked grin. "Ha! Don't you understand? That mark on your chest, was made by my butler while you were under my engagement. You cannot deny it. You…are…my golden calf."

Hissing, you shoved away from the blond count and vanished.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter 7

Sebastian emerged in the carriage door, his strong hands gently setting a sleeping Richard onto the plush cushion beside you. Smiling, you stroked your son's slate gray hair, his child face so peaceful in its slumber. Your hand rested on his side, feeling the human organs filling with oxygen and releasing. Closing your eyes, you remembered how your body functioned in the same way, before…this. Now, you lived on scant to what you did. You need not to eat, drink, nor consistently breath. You were not human.

Sebastian lingered in the doorway, watching you toss back and forth your past and present like sunlight upon the ocean. How intently he stared with those seductive amber eyes. Life had been different with another demon laying claim to his master. Sebastian knew that you would never interfere with his contract, for it went against the natural law of demons. Yet he could not help but feel slightly covetous of Ciel. It was not for the ridiculous humanistic reasons, no. It was deeper, more profound than that. It was a demon emotion, pure energy and ethereal spirit. It was this spirit that intimidated you.

Sebastian, you realized, was far too strong for you to battle against. It came off of him in dark waves, his powerful demonic essence. Compared to him, you were a child. And as a child to a parent, there were boundaries unsaid between you.

The two of you had an understanding; do not cross over into one another's territory. It seemed animalistic, like dogs or wolves, with the elder and stronger the dominate force. You simply fell into line. There were times when, as the underling, you feared Sebastian hating you.

Sebastian did not hate you, however. He in fact tolerated your company, and he admired Richard in his own way. The demon patted the child's head and made to close the door.

"Thank you Sebastian," You said still with your eyes closed.

The demon nodded sharply and bowed at the waist. Closing the door, the carriage shifted as the butler mounted the driver's seat. With a snap of his wrists, Sebastian had the horses at a steady pace back on the long road to the Phantomhive Estate.

Ciel watched you in silence, the moonlight dancing off of your pale skin. The red of your dress made you seem like some ancient goddess, bathing in blood. He watched Richard sleeping on your lap, his own skin pale and smooth.

Inside, Ciel wondered if his sons would inherit any of your inhuman traits as they grew. For Sebastian remained quiet and discreet whenever his master offered such inquiries.

"But, Sebastian, how would they display the demonic gifts of their mother?"

The stoic demon gave a cursory glance. "Gifts?"

The earl settled back into his large leather chair, the plush wings shading him from the day's light.

"Are they not gifts? Is your speed, stamina, longevity, and…beauty not some unjust gift to your kind?"

The demon gave his head a quick, bird-like tilt. It startled Ciel how animalistic it was. Sebastian, over the years, had learned to keep such movements to a minimum. Yet every now and again, his demon nature came through like a stain.

"Nay, not gifts sir. Betterments to our superior race."

Ciel studied his butler with the cold calm of a tiger hidden in the grass.

"That will be all."

Ciel had recalled that short conversation with disdain. By the time the carriage arrived at the Phantomhive estate, Richard was fast asleep. Sebastian did his duty of bringing the boy to his room, relieving him of his formal wear and placing the boy's night shirt over his slim shoulders.

"There, Young Master. I bid you sweet dreams." Sebastian's normally amber pools glittered violet.

He watched the small chest rise and fall in unsuspecting rhythm, the diaphragm expanding and contracting. The demon eyed the thin throat, the pale skin unmarred. Richard's face was Ciel's in that, he wore the same expressions. Sebastian licked his lips.

"Soon, Young Master. Soon."

The bedroom was cold when you entered. Sebastian had yet to stoke a fire, leaving the windows frosty from the February chill. Using your demonic abilities, a spark danced around the iron grate, growing to consume the logs lain within. The room brightened and became warm. Walking over to your wardrobe, you pulled out an evening robe and set it upon the dresser, to be used for when you undressed.

Exiting into the bathing room, you divested yourself of the fanciful dress, the pins in your hair, the stockings and shoes. Standing there before your reflection you gingerly touched the corset around your midsection. Normally, you wore it to bed, only slightly loosened. Never since you came back to Ciel did you remove it. You were too afraid to face the truth beneath.

Alois's cruel words came to you, making you wince. He talked of your wound, of the blow that ended your mortal life. Over the corset you traced the line from your ribs to your navel. Biting your lips, you checked to see if Ciel had ventured into your room, then feeling that he still had not, you undid the bindings. The corset fell to the floor with a heavy thud. Now you stood nude, unable to hide. Your body had changed and you marveled at the way your skin moved over your limbs, the muscle tone enhanced. Your breasts and hips curved like the lines of Venus de Milo. Until your eyes rested on the scar. The horrid mark of jagged flesh burnt a dark crimson. It connected your chest to your belly like a twisted piece of ribbon. Your fingertips felt the hardened tissue, the last tie to your former life. All the while his voice whispered into your ears.

"A living doll…that's what you are." You remembered his fingers on your sternum. "You are a monster."

His touch had disgusted you. You wished to cleanse yourself, but there was something disturbed in you that forced you to remain tainted. Alois, your former fiancé, your killer, had found you. It was as if the pieces of the triangle of your life had mended. The one who loved you, the one who murdered and hated you, and you the vile offspring of them both. The thought of that brought a twist to your mouth.

A twist that soon faded. You had been so involved in your thoughts of Alois that you failed to see the one who loved you. Ciel. Your Ciel. And suddenly the feelings of disgrace and sully overcame you. You were dirtied by Alois-how could you let your husband touch you. To not bath yourself was a betrayal to him. Just as you turned to fetch the robe from yon dresser, the bedroom doors were shut.

"(y/n) are you decent? You disappeared from the carriage."

Ciel removed his dress coat and flung it onto a large armchair. He loosened his tie and sat on the bed, removing his shoes. You watched him from behind the bathroom door. You could not re-dress yourself, nor could you plainly walk stark naked to get your robe. Ciel could not see the scar.

"Ciel, I am afraid that I am not decent to come out. I have forgotten my robe. Would you turn around so that I might get it?"

The earl smirked, "Does that mean that my wife is bare and seemingly unfit to be the Lady of my house?"

A blush rose to your face. "That is true."

The earl then reclined onto the bed, his back to you.

"Then please hurry so that I may see the Lady Phantomhive."

Waiting seconds before, you paused then darted out. The robe lay across your dresser within reach. Yet just before you grasped the fine material, Ciel's hand took hold of yours and pulled you away from your goal. The cloth of his shirt pressed against your naked chest, his trousers brushed your hips. You did not wish for him to see your mark and so pressed closer to him. Ciel gladly took this as initiative.

"However, as the Lady Phantomhive is preoccupied, a saucy little creature such as yourself will do." Ciel nuzzled your hair, enjoying the scent of roses.

His hands wandered up your back caressing your shoulder blades.

"My good sir, I'm certain that your Lady would love to be in your presence provided that she be permitted to dress." You said playing along.

"My Lady keeps herself hidden from me. Yet you, my little nymph, seek to prance about free and uninhibited."

Your husband kissed your temples, your cheeks. "Pray tell me why hast thou snuck into my room? Are you some nimble fey here to spirit me away?"

Ciel bent and took you into his arms. Starting, you quickly covered your chest, hoping that the scar eluded him. He set you onto the plush bed, his own weight following you. His chest brushed your naked legs, forcing them to part around him. Ciel's blue, blue eye hazed over in a longing at the sight of you. Once you felt his chest cover yours, you let your hands slid over his clothed back, pulling it away from his shoulders. The smooth skin enticed you, begged for you to kiss the well-formed shoulder.

"Ah, so here at last is My Lady." Whispered Ciel, his lips dancing along your skin.

The Earl caressed your body with a feather-like touch that brought the white hot flames from deep within your soul. It still amazed you that those hands which stroked and soothed, hands that were so gentle and protecting could be hands of hatred and revenge.

How fitting it was then, the two of you. Ciel with his dark missions and you a demon. The Earl worked your flesh until it flushed with a delicious pink hue. Ciel disrobed completely and set away to wooing you.

"More sons, give me more sons."

You had to chuckle. Never removing your arms from your chest, you nuzzled your husband's face, kissing his cheek. "How many times will you tell me so?"

Ciel kissed your mouth. "Until this mansion is filled with the little voices and pitter-patter of feet."

His eager lips moved downwards towards your chest. As his hands sought to remove your arms, a crude array of noises erupted from below, shattering your intimate moment and thusly distracting Ciel from the eventual seeing of your scar. In an instant, the Earl was on his feet swiftly moving towards the door, his feet barely touching the plush carpet. The young Earl snatched a dressing robe from his wardrobe slinging it over his back and tying it at the waist. Gripping the brass knob to give it a firm twist, Ciel stuck his head into the darkened hallway.

"Sebastian!" Ciel bellowed for the demonic butler.

In moments, the dark haired butler approached his heated master.

"What is wrong sir? Why did you not use the servant's chord to ring me-instead of behaving like a boatman?"

Taking a glance inside, Sebastian's amber gaze fell on your pale form made amplified by the firelight and you flushed as you recalled your indecency. The two of you stared at one another with an inhuman intensity natural to your kind. He noticed the ugly scar.

Ciel minded the look in his butler's eyes and, feeling the whirling dervish of his masculinity being possibly threatened, quickly brought the demonic servant's attention back into check.

"What in God's name is happening in this house? It seems that whenever I am finally achieving some semblance of peace, another thing goes horridly wrong!"

Sebastian blinked once, his eyelids falling heavily almost seductively over those preternatural amber pools. His pale lips pulled back into a smile—which to those who were unaware or unfamiliar with Sebastian's smiles, held a hint of mockery.

"Perhaps it is because of the lack of aptitude from the others." He said with finality.

Ciel thought a bit. His expression a mixture of exhaustion and fatigue.

"Fix it then."

The black haired butler turned on his heel to leave when he paused, "Oh, forgive me but I forgot to mention this—the Lady Elizabeth is here to see you. She seems quite distraught about something."

With that said, Sebastian departed down the hallway, melding into the darkness.


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter 8

True to Sebastian's word, Lady Elizabeth was found in the main hall- her cheeks plump and swollen red. Clutched in her hands was a white handkerchief, already sodden with salty tears. Her usually brilliant green eyes were glossy with fresh tears, the cause yet to be told. Ciel rushed to the grand entrance, past the large grandfather clock and came down the main staircase. Concern and worry inscribed on his face.

" Elizabeth! What in heaven's name brings you to my home at this hour?"

He reached out to embrace his cousin, holding her tightly as if she were one of his children. For minutes she said not a word, only sobbed into his shoulder. The occasional hiccup mingled in with her cries.

"Please Lizzie, you must tell me what has you so distraught" Ciel patted her back comfortingly.

The blond woman calmed suddenly and spoke.

"I was accosted Ciel! Oh it was dreadfully frightful!" She patted her eyes with her handkerchief.

Alarm raised his brows as he gently held her by her shoulders. "Accosted? By who?"

Lady Elizabeth sniffled before bringing herself to respond. "Count Alois Trancy."

Total and utter disbelief formed Ciel's face. That mad count had terrorized his cousin! For what purpose? He could plainly see the young noble's gaudy clothes, his wild aqua eyes dancing around like marbles in a glass, that jester's grin. Hatred filled the earl's heart and Elizabeth quieted as her cousin's demeanor darkened.

"I should have killed him when I had the chance." Ciel hissed.

He looked to his cousin and said with all of the comfort of a lover, "Fear not. I will get to the bottom of this. In the meantime, you must stay here in my home. Just until I can be sure he will not do this again."

Elizabeth stared at him with revere. And the thoughts of him belonging to you, knowing that his three children, his sons slept soundly behind these manor walls brought more tears into her eyes.

" Thank you Ciel. You do not know how much your words mean to me." She hid behind the wet piece of cloth and rested her head against him.

Such acts were usually reserved in public, but Elizabeth yearned to feel what you had come to regard as normal. She had her heart broken when Ciel canceled their engagement, and even more so when your first child, Richard was born. She had seen the way Ciel's blue eye lit up at the sight of the babe. It was then that Elizabeth knew there was to be no hope for her. Ciel had found his true love in you and now had a growing family. So etiquette be damned and let her bask in these fragile moments. She would feel his arms around her for as long as she could; and she quivered as they both secured and tore her heart asunder.

Unbeknownst to them, you watched from a safe distance hidden in the shadows. It unnerved you how easily it was done. Your body conformed to the blackness as a glove to a hand. Sebastian told you it was an essential survival and preditorial attribute to your kind. You hardly ever resorted to lowly spying, it made the feeble ounces of humanity within you vanish as well. You did not speak, simply remained inhumanly still. Like a specter you haunted the corridors, eyeing the tender moment below you. A rumbling rose in your ears, soft at first, then increased until it chilled your bones. You could not escape that sound, that horrid sound of splintering trees and cracking ice. It frightened you and your senses searched for the source until you realized that this sound this guttural vibration came from you. Your throat moved as the monstrous growl rose from the bowels of your stomach, slithering out from beyond fanged teeth.

"Jealousy is also our undoing (y/n). Be mindful of that."

Sebastian's cool voice echoed behind you. Just as you were, his shadow- self lurked in the dark. His eyes shone red, the pupils nothing more but thin slits. He grinned as he spoke, like he was unable to find anything else but some sort of macabre pleasure whilst in his demonic form. You felt the long protrusions of his fangs grace his bottom lip. The long pink tongue tense and ready to strike.

"So the great Sebastian has a weakness. Finally I have found fault in your perfection." You said to the essence near you.

"Hmmmmmm, you would have to prove my fault before others would believe." His voice flowed over you like a dream. True demon voices tended to do that.

They had no earthly timbre, they just flowed like free energy should.

"Am I not still the Lady of this manor?" You retorted.

Sebastian's airy laugh acted as Segway for his comments. "A lady you are, young one. But a Lady, no I'm afraid that title is reserved for mortals. And you, my dear, are not so."

You winced and drew your lips away from your teeth, the fangs startlingly white. Whirling around you met eyes with the ghastly presence of the Phantomhive butler.

"How dare you say such things!"

Red eyes watched you with an uncaring that could only be portrayed by an otherworldly creature dealing in human affairs.

"When will you accept what you have become and loose this false sense of mortality? You forfeited those petty emotions when I made you all of those years ago. Yet here you are playing the role of human, mortal, wife and mother."

"What am I if not a wife to my husband and mother to my sons, then Sebastian? Answer me! Reveal to me your assumptions. But make no mistake that not a day goes by without my thinking on what I am. I suffer the notion that I will survive my children. I will watch them as they will grow old and die. Yet I will remain the same as I am now. We are not unlike those creatures called vampires in that regard, you and I." You felt the venom seep from your throat as you spoke.

"Vampires are not real, my Lady. We are the reality. You make no mistake on that. This is what is. Humans are born, they grow, they fornicate and then they die. Like flies they are! While we—eternal, beautiful, creatures see millennia. There are two certainties that in my years I have come to realize; Them and us. They pray to their God, others worship their beliefs, but there is uncertainty in their hearts. Worry that there is truly nothing after death. Their sadness, their hate, their avarice and envy, that is what forms us. That is what creates us! We are what they secretly wish to become. We, you and I, are their true hearts. And it is delicious."

You stood in awe to this demon. His ghostly words carried themselves through your brain and heart. Deep down you knew he was right. But it was this exact reason that you held onto your humanity. Humans have no idea what they create in the dark abyss of time and space. Your human body rotted in the ground, as this new one fed upon the hatred and pain. You were. That was all. However you remembered being mortal. The feeling of the grass against your skin, the flowers in spring. Sebastian saw the conflict within you, striving to achieve an answer as to why you existed in this form. You needed truth, not just his version and so smirking, Sebastian came close to you. His lips brushed your ear as he gave you the only solution as to your being.

What came from him made you almost cry out in denial.

"It was the hatred and fury of Alois Trancy that you were stabbed that night. With his darkness it ate at you like a cancer, devouring your body and soul. His emotions filtered into you as you lay bleeding in my arms; it was he who flashed across your mind as the cause of your inevitable death. It was the mortal detestation you felt within your soul for Alois Trancy that shaped you. This is the reason you exist. You were born from this marriage of abhorrence as you lay dying. I saw that cloud, that spark of life and welded it to your soul."

A clawed hand rested upon your chest and you felt uncontrollable shivers rattle your limbs. Sebastian's evil smile was on your cheek now, that devil's bow of a mouth pressuring the essence that was your face.

"And this scar is your constant reminder of that anguish. You may run from it as fast and hard as you might; but take heed. It will always be a part of you. It was hatred that killed you, and it is to hatred which you belong."

Just as your mouth opened to release the grizzly cry held in captivity, Ciel rounded the corner and took your shoulders.

"My dear, There has been a predicament concerning Lady Elizabeth. She will be staying with us for a few days."


End file.
